


the skins of diplomats

by FictionIsSocialInquiry



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ambassador Katara, F/M, Firelord Zuko, Unresolved Sexual Tension, also fuck you Earth Kingdom Ambassadors, except it is resolved later, sexy sexy politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28821603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionIsSocialInquiry/pseuds/FictionIsSocialInquiry
Summary: The Firelord is a master of masks. Whether in diplomacy or while wielding dao swords, he has learned utter control, how to keep his expression from betraying him. But water has a way of wearing down even the firmest foundations— his tyrant father, Ba Sing Se’s defences… a Firelord’s composure.Zuko smirks, a small and secretive smile.Katara catches him in the act and her eyes gleam. ‘Impressive watchtower, Firelord Zuko.’
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 156





	the skins of diplomats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldilocks23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldilocks23/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Solace of Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208343) by [goldilocks23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldilocks23/pseuds/goldilocks23). 



> This little fic was inspired by goldilocks23's [The Solace of Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208343) (which you should absolutely go and read -- it's is out of this world amazing)! The title of this fic is from Solace and its one of my favourite SFW lines in that fic!
> 
> Also, if you're interested in seeing the nook that haunts Katara in this fic, [check out favlie's incredible art!](https://formerlygoldilocks.tumblr.com/post/638633586150473728/the-first-time-the-blue-spirit-fucks-the-painted)

‘Honourable Ambassador.’

‘Mmph.’

‘My lady, excuse the interruption…’

‘Sen, it’s barely dawn.’

‘It is in fact two hours after dawn, Honourable Ambassador. Would you like assistance in removing the pillow from your face?’

‘Urg.’

‘A missive from His Majesty’s Office arrived a few minutes ago. The messenger implored I give it to you straight away, my lady.’

‘From the Bl—The Firelord?

‘Yes, Honourable Ambassador.’

Katara sits up at that, tosses the pillow aside and blinks blearily at the neatly dressed servant at her bedside. Sunlight is streaming in through the briskly parted curtains and no sunlight streams in quite as bright as Fire Nation, early morning sunlight.

Sen, bowed at the waist, missive clutched between her thumbs and forefingers and held out as though in offering, clears her throat lightly. ‘I would be honoured to assist you to dress for the day, Honourable Ambassador.’

Katara is halfway through peeling back the Firelord’s seal and climbing sleepily from the bed. ‘Sure. Looks like I’ll be going down into the city today so casual robes, I think.’

_… promptly at ten. The Ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe is invited to attend. The Fire Nation, committed to cultivating peace, transparency, and diplomacy with its allies in the other Nations, would like to tour the deescalated defences of Caldera City with our friends from the other Nations._

_A private tour with the Firelord himself._

‘I will lay out your blue Water Tribe dress? The one the Honourable Ambassador insists on wearing in this heat?’

_A private tour with the Firelord himself._

‘No.’ Her lips tingle with the ghostly feel of smoothly polished wood. ‘Red. Find me something red.’

—

The sun at his back is both a comfort and a weight. A firebender can never feel anything but powerful under the sun, but today, burning through his thick robes, it makes sweat bead and trickle down the divot of his spine.

The Northern Water Tribe are in conclave with their Southern brethren so at least he would only have to entertain the handful of Earth Kingdom dignitaries and— unlike the Water Tribes— they were always on time. A quick excursion of the tourism district where the naval port once stood and the recommissioned Hedoya watchtower and he would be back before sundown. In time for his late meetings, the ones he attends in simple black clothes and hollow wooden mask...

‘Would His Majesty like a refreshing iced tea?’ the servant at his elbow asks, eyes lowered, head bowed.

Zuko’s skin is itching. The heat is oppressive. His thoughts are… distracting. ‘No. Thank you.’

The man backs up gracefully. ‘Your Majesty.’

Zuko resists crossing his arms over his chest. _Drip_ , goes the sweat at his back. ‘Do you have the time?’

‘Ten past ten, Your Majesty.’

So much for Earth Kingdom punctuality. A blue bird flashes from the cedar tree across the courtyard, flutters over the pond and disappears into the brush. It’s bright, startling ocean blue.

He fists his robes.

‘Firelord Zuko!’

Heat traces his spine, the back of his throat. Behind him, a clatter of footsteps announces her arrival. ‘Zuko.’

The Firelord turns, surveys her coolly from behind a mask of banality. ‘Ambassador Katara.’

Her grin is too sunny for someone ruled by the moon. ‘I’m glad I didn’t miss the tour.’

—

It is a small party— he is uncomfortably aware of that. There are his few attending ministers, occupied with explaining the renovations. There is the suite of Earth Kingdom ambassadors— Omashu, Ba Sing Se, Gaoling— and their attendants, all clad in rich greens trimmed with gold. One of the Elders from the Northern Water Tribe keeps the party moving at a crawl, his hobble frustratingly slow. Zuko opens his mouth to offer the man a palanquin at some point but the final member of the group shakes her head at him, biting back a grin.

The Southern Ambassador.

‘Should you need to build any battlements in the future, Firelord, Zuko, you would be wise to employ earthbenders in the construction,’ the Ambassador from Ba Sing Se calls over his shoulder. The man is head and shoulders shorter than Zuko but speaks to the young Firelord as though he were a misbehaving child.

Zuko is behind, walking alone, so no one sees his composure slip as his lip twitches. ‘Indeed, Ambassador Tong?’

‘Oh, yes. Earthbender defensive construction is unparalleled. We even kept your uncle from the great city of Ba Sing Se. For six hundred days.’

‘Not his sister though.’

All three Earth Kingdom Ambassadors pucker up tenser than a muscle held to strain. They turn, glowering over Zuko’s shoulder. All he can do is swallow— pray for composure— before glancing back, a beat behind his guests.

She’s not even looking at the other ambassadors. The Northern Elder is on her arm and she is helping him up the stairs of the Hedoya watchtower.

‘What was that, Master Katara?’

They arrive on the landing and she smiles kindly at the panting Elder, draws level with the others with a regality that belies her humble upbringing. ‘Only that Princess Azula was the exception to unpenetrable earthbender defensive construction. _She_ broke through the wall with a drill.’

‘She was stopped!’ the ambassador from Gaoling snaps, her glasses slipping down her nose. Fussily, she gathers her robes, pulling them straight. ‘Her attack failed.’

‘Her first attack, yes,’ Katara continues, her expression as cool as if they merely discussed the weather or one of the delicacies served each night at dinner. ‘She then led the coup that took down Ba Sing Se.’

The Firelord is a master of masks. Whether in diplomacy or while wielding dao swords, he has learned utter control, how to keep his expression from betraying him. But water has a way of wearing down even the firmest foundations— his tyrant father, Ba Sing Se’s defences… a Firelord’s composure.

Zuko smirks, a small and secretive smile.

Katara catches him in the act and her eyes gleam. ‘Impressive watchtower, Firelord Zuko.’

—

She recognises the hallway immediately but her entire body tingles as Zuko’s ministers halt their party by the nook to indicate the outlook beyond the watchtower windows. She’s at the back of the group, the nook just behind her, the slats where moonlight had slunk through and bathed them now choked with sunshine.

The hairs at the back of her neck shiver upright.

‘… are plans to have commemorative plaques installed at all major vantage points here in Hedoya to compliment the new compulsory history unit of work in Caldera schools...’

‘Not that they’re happy about it,’ the Firelord mutters under his breath. Katara glances at him, away, at him again. ‘Minister Pao wants to “forgive and forget.”’

‘…His Majesty’s government seeks to educate our nation’s youth on the follies of war and…’

She swallows past the memory of a moan in her throat, the ghosts of his touch smearing crimson paint into her skin. The solace of that hurried, frantic moment in the nook a handful of nights ago...

‘… our responsibility to ensure open and transparent dialogue between the past and the future…’

It’s the feeling of being watched, of eyes trained on the back of her head from within the empty nook, that makes her turn. She checks it once.

Empty.

Twice.

Only memories…

The Firelord catches her eye on the third glance.

There are hidden forest fires behind his polite façade.

Ambassador Katara retreats behind the skin of diplomacy she’s learned to wear well since the end of the war. It doesn’t fit her quite right, tight and restrictive where she longs for the freedom to move, but it hides all but the hot crimson in her cheeks.

‘You look good in red by day, Ambassador.’

Before she can respond, the Fire Nation guide waves them on and the Firelord is thanking his guests for their attendance

—

Later that night, she kisses and licks and sucks at the Blue Spirit until he spills down her chin in that charged and private nook.

There is moonlight, again, between the slats at the Blue Spirit’s back.


End file.
